


life-day

by ninefish



Series: if i stay here, trouble will find me [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Jedi birthday traditions, kind of making up lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:02:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24649165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninefish/pseuds/ninefish
Summary: When Anakin turned 13.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Mace Windu, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Series: if i stay here, trouble will find me [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719697
Comments: 4
Kudos: 126





	life-day

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the conclusion of the trials of mandalore! 
> 
> This is in my AU series centered around Obi-Wan going to Mandalore post-TPM! You don't need to read it for this fluff to make sense, but just know Windu is Anakin's Master in this 'verse and they Don't hate each other!

To an outsider, the Jedi didn’t have an apparent culture. They were the defenders of peace, with a deep and rich history, but they weren’t much more than that to the average person. But once Anakin was in, he realized that the Jedi _adored_ their traditions for a sect dedicated to not having attachments.

As a result, though life-days were not celebrated by the Jedi as a rule, there was an exception made on an initiate’s thirteenth life-day.

And, because it was the Jedi, it involved meditation.

Anakin squirmed on his cushion, trying desperately to not seem overwhelmingly uncomfortable while he was in the center of attention. It wasn’t the attention that bothered him— it was really just the meditation. Normally it was only Master Windu and he to see him squirm in his seat.

Tru had told him that there was nothing to the life-day ritual. It was just a bit of meditation, reflection on the past, yadda yadda— all the sorts of things Jedi loved.

But Tru didn’t have Master Windu as his Master.

Windu’s gaze bored into Anakin’s eyes, that endless pool of calm.

After what seemed like a small eternity, they stood. Anakin worked his fidgeting into smoothing out his robes. They went into an antechamber, Windu pulling a small item wrapped in cloth. 

“A gift is offered. May it offer peace and reflection,” Master Windu spoke the traditional words.

Anakin raised his palms upward, looking down as a weight was settled in his hands. His fingers wrapped around the cylindrical object. “I accept humbly,” he repeated obediently, finally looking up. Anakin gave a small grin as the smooth, solid metal registered to his light touch. It was a gleaming lightsaber hilt, nearly finished. It radiated the warmth of Windu in the Force.

“When you built your first lightsaber, there was much conflict in you. You have grown a lot, Anakin,” Windu smiled faintly. Anakin blinked rapidly, overwhelmed by the compliment.

This second blade was to ground him. Just as the charging Rancor would brace its tree-like limbs before pouncing, two lightsabers emanated potential.

As if in response to Anakin’s nightmares of the arena, the unfinished hilt murmured _trust_ through the Force. Master Windu trusted him. He looked back down at the hands that had just given him the lightsaber. One couldn’t even tell that one was mechanical.

Anakin swallowed the lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he whispered.

The hilt was an unusual metal. He couldn’t place it, but the gloss wasn’t as luminous as one might expect of a standard hilt. It was subdued and yet clearly of quality. His mechanic’s brain turned itself over trying to identify the material.

“The hilt is made from beskar. I called in a favor,” Master Windu spoke before he could ask. “Mandalorians used it for their armor. I thought you might like to make adjustments to it— I’ve heard that Mandalorian armor of old was able to endure extraordinary conditions.”

Anakin felt the burn in his eyes rush back. “You’d let me mess around with a Jedi heirloom?” He teased, hooking the hilt to his belt experimentally.

Windu didn’t deign to answer that, instead giving a satisfied nod. “It suits you.” Anakin glowed.

* * *

From the courtyard outside there was the distinct hum of a ship landing.

Master Windu frowned, “who in their right mind—?”

Regular pilots to this sector of Coruscant knew better than to attempt a landing in the Jedi Temple, the architecture different enough than the rest of Coruscant to immediately disarm any attempt at innocuous confusion. And considering the Jedi’s close connection to the Senate, that was usually enough to dissuade any of the more adventurous pilots from approaching the Temple. Which meant anyone landing— 

Anakin perked up, feeling a familiar mind reach out to his. _Obi-Wan._ He felt Master Windu sigh from beside him. 

Windu gave him an unimpressed look, “well?” His expression softened. “I can’t imagine Knight Kenobi is here for me.”

Anakin took the cue as permission to bound up and exit the antechamber. He emerged to see the pilot’s cockpit of the single-person flyer to open. Obi-Wan stood smoothly, looking much the same as in their comm calls. He had visited Coruscant a few times over the years, often to go straight into long, stern meetings with the Jedi Council that often left Windu in a bad mood.

Anakin had heard the other Jedi talking of Obi-Wan when he wasn’t around. Some malicious, judgmental of his stay on Mandalore. It broke tradition— wasn’t the _Jedi way_. Some muttered to themselves that Obi-Wan should have released his grief for his Master’s passing already and returned, or faced consequences. Others looked to his circumstances with envy. He wasn’t deaf or blind— Anakin saw Masters walk off, to unknown Coruscant alleyways and establishments. Older Padawans as well. Tradition was the foundation of the Jedi Temple and yet there were so many cracks in it.

But regardless of what anyone else said, Anakin rushed forward and hugged Obi-Wan enthusiastically. First and foremost, Obi-Wan was his friend, and since he hadn’t immediately dashed off to the Council chambers, Anakin could only assume he was here for _him_.

Obi-Wan’s hand found his head and ruffled his short Padawan haircut affectionately. “You’re really hitting your growth spurt, Anakin,” he said fondly, Coruscanti accent washing over Anakin.

“I plan on being taller than you,” Anakin snarked back confidently.

Blue eyes teasingly scowled at him. “Oh, I have no doubts of it.” Obi-Wan sobered slightly, “I know today is your thirteenth life-day.” He pulled a small pouch from his belt and offered it to Anakin. “I’m not your mentor despite what Master Qui-Gon asked for, but I think it worked out.” He gave a wry smile and nodded to someone behind Anakin. He had the feeling if he turned, he would see Master Windu watching from a distance, as he always did. "I hope you'll accept this as a gift from a friend, instead."

Anakin gently opened the bag and a beige stone rolled out, smoothed from being worn from water for a millennium. The stone practically hummed in his palm, radiating the history of the river that had rushed over it. And there was something else. There was the fiery warmth of Obi-Wan that he tapped down and something else. An older calm, like Master Windu but different. It took Anakin back to the presence of a man who had felt more a mountain than flesh, even more so for the flight he offered to a boy who had been grounded his whole life.

“Master Qui-Gon,” Anakin breathed softly.

Obi-Wan gave a small smile, smoothing over the kaleidoscope that had burst in his eyes. “Yes. My Master gave me this river stone and I hadn’t appreciated it until later. I see that you’re already wiser than I was, then.”

Anakin wondered if it was a part of the tradition to also laud praise onto the life-day receiver. Not that he was complaining.

"Master Qui-Gon would want you to have it, as I do. It is my most treasured possession. I hope it will be with you always to remind you of Qui-Gon and me, of our deep regard for you," Obi-Wan said softly.

The stone seemed to become more animated at his words. It was precious. Anakin slipped the stone back in the pouch, holding onto it firmly.

“Thank you. I'll treasure it,” he said, wrapping Obi-Wan in another hug.

Master Windu and Obi-Wan . . . . He might have not been able to visit Mom this year, but this was his family as well.

* * *

Obi-Wan planned to drop by, give Anakin his gift, and then promptly leave before the Jedi Council could chastise him on his conduct. Slowly, but surely, the Council had been reevaluating their standards on attachment, but there was still great hesitance. 

It was one thing to quietly approve— something Obi-Wan still couldn’t quite believe or calm his irritation over— one Jedi’s decision to go slightly rouge with Obi-Wan shining reputation from beforehand, and another to tell a whole Order suddenly that attachment was acceptable within certain bounds.

Sure, none of the scripture outright banned attachment, but what had the Jedi been expected to extrapolate from emerging from the Great Sith War and the histories of Jedi being lead astray by their emotions? Easier to cut off the whole lot of it than being forced to acknowledge the flaws.

It was a slow path back to redemption in Obi-Wan’s eyes. 

In the meanwhile, he found it was best to avoid temptation and let the Council dismantle the traditions as they saw fit. No need to bait the sleeping Krayt dragon. After all, if the Jedi Council demanded he _stay_ , it would be the both of them that had to deal with Satine’s wrath.

Anakin grabbed Obi-Wan’s arm through his thoughts. “Actually, this is perfect timing. You know that project I told you about?”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, “I think?” Anakin had a habit of spouting any of the dozen ideas he was juggling at any time to whoever was willing to listen. There was indeed a high chance Obi-Wan had heard whichever fixation Anakin was talking about now.

Anakin led him through the Temple dormitories. The hall sent a nostalgic pang through him. It had only been a few years since he last slept in the dormitories and yet it felt like a lifetime ago.

Anakin made him stop before his room, Padawan braid flying behind him and he rushed in. A few moments and bangs later, he wheeled out a shiny astromech droid, clearly tinkered with.

“And what is this, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked, exasperated. Was this another droid he was going to have to apologetically return to a wayward owner and grudgingly have to convince them that _yes, the droid actually is better than when you previously had it, don’t ask._

“She’s for you!” Anakin said cheerfully. “Her name is R4-P17.”

Obi-Wan blinked, “really? It’s not stolen?” He half-teased.

Anakin pouted. “I made _her_ for you out of odd parts from a scrapped astromech skeleton I found when . . . uh, searching.” He knew what Obi-Wan thought of his dumpster-diving tendencies. Sure, he occasionally caught questionable illnesses from unknown objects, but the amount of valuable parts people thought were trash or unsalvageable was _unbelievable_.

“Searching?” Obi-Wan said skeptically. He decided part-way through questioning that he really didn’t want to know what misadventures Anakin had gone through to get the parts. On second thought, he was _extremely_ relieved he hadn’t had to be Anakin’s Master.

At that moment, the droid decided to power on and began beeping excitedly.

Anakin grinned to himself as he translated the binary. “R4 is saying your face is very symmetrical.”

Obi-Wan coughed. _Why_ did Anakin’s droids always have the strangest personality quirks? Well, he supposed this wasn’t the worst possible option. “Thank you,” he told the droid, then frowned slightly at Anakin. “But this is _your_ life-day celebration, Anakin.” And if he was feeling a bit sullen because, even though the river stone Master Qui-Gon had given him a precious gift, it felt a bit unfair handing the relic to Anakin when the boy instead gave Obi-Wan a whole damn droid.

“I’ve been meditating for _ages_ , Obi-Wan. I can’t meditate anymore, I _can’t_ ,” Anakin groaned, flopping onto the bed. R4 beeped sympathetically. Anakin peered up at Obi-Wan. “And it’s not like you care for tradition. After all didn’t you run off and demand that Jedi Council let you—” 

Obi-Wan pulled a pillow to him with the Force and promptly smothered Anakin’s face with it. Right, well, just because birthday boys were entitled to some privileges didn’t mean they could stop respecting their elders.

“I need to get going, Anakin. Happy life-day.” Obi-Wan said abruptly over Anakin’s half-hearted thrashes. “And the accounts for how I was allowed to stay on Mandalore have been largely exaggerated,” he added pointedly.

R4 cheerfully chirped goodbye to Anakin and she followed Obi-Wan out the door.

Anakin groaned into the pillow. Well, he supposed Obi-Wan wasn’t much one for tradition either. He touched the river stone and smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> if y'all couldn't tell - i. love. found. family. tropes.
> 
> I wrote this fic bc I needed wholesome fluff. Also, introducing R4!!


End file.
